


What Peace Is

by xsista



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mansion Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-05
Updated: 2012-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-28 23:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/313300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xsista/pseuds/xsista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik's not entirely sure how one would define his relationship with Charles. They've fucked, but never kissed. They do everything but actually sleep together. Then, Erik decides to try his hand at dating.</p><p>(a really shitty fic based off an RP i did a long time ago that will probably never be finished.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Peace Is

Charles exhaled shakily, smoothing his clammy palms over the sapphire blue button-down he was currently wearing.

 _Calm your mind_ , he thought to himself _, there’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s just a night on the town with Erik._

His stomach flipped.

Charles sighed, rolling his eyes at his own reactions.

 _This is ridiculous. I’m not some teenage schoolgirl getting ready for her first date._ Charles shook his head, reaching to grab a belt out of his closet, and weaving it through the loops of his dark-wash jeans, before turning to look at himself in the mirror.

“Well, here goes nothing,” he murmured to his reflection, running a hand distractedly through his chocolate brown locks and turning to exit his bedroom.

As he entered the hallway, the door to Erik’s bedroom opened as well, and the man in question emerged.

Charles gasped quietly.

Clad in a crisp, white dress shirt, black jeans, and a sharp, black suit coat, Erik looked absolutely stunning. Charles raked his eyes appreciatively over Erik’s body, stopping on his ice blue eyes, which had widened upon seeing Charles.

“Charles,” Erik choked out, “Wow. Blue.”

Charles frowned in confusion, “Come again?”

“Your shirt,” Erik explained, regaining his composure, “It brings out the color of your eyes.”

“Oh!” Charles flushed, “Really?”

“Yes,” Erik stepped forward, hand cupping Charles’ jaw and tilting his face upward, “They look like gems, Charles. Sapphires.”

 _He must know the effect he has on me,_ thought Charles weakly, _surely, he must_.

Suddenly, the warmth of Erik’s hand was gone, and he was stepping away.

“I thought that maybe we could stay in tonight,” Erik stated, turning to move down the hallway, “Perhaps you could teach me how to cook.”

Charles’ face lit up as he followed Erik to the stairs, “Oh, I’d love to! What would you like to make?”

Erik smiled warmly at the enthusiastic grin on Charles’ face, “I’m up for anything.”

 

~

 

“Wait, how much milk did you say to put in here?” Erik questioned, glaring at the bubbling pot on the stove, hand poised to pour.

“Oh no!” Charles squeaked, rushing over and grabbing the milk out of his hand, “I already added milk! It just needs basil!”

Erik looked at him blankly.

Charles sighed, “It’s an herb, Erik.”

Erik scoffed, “I know that.”

“Mhmm,” Charles rolled his eyes, “Why don’t you just strain the pasta and grab us some wine?”

“Yes, sir,” Erik mock-saluted, sliding the pot off the burner and pouring it into the strainer. Whorls of steam billowed from the sink, and Erik leaned back, flicking the tap on. The cold water made quick work of the steam, and satisfied, Erik turned back to Charles, “What kind of wine would you like?”

“Merlot,” Charles answered distractedly, stirring basil into the sauce, “There should be some in the cabinet above the fridge.”

Erik retrieved the bottle efficiently, removing the cork and pouring two glasses before setting the bottle back onto the counter. He lifted his own glass to his mouth, inhaling appreciatively before taking a sip. It was _very_ good wine. He opened his mouth to comment on this to Charles, when suddenly the shorter brunette brought a spoonful of sauce to his lips, and tasted it. Erik watched in amusement as Charles’ face took on a thoughtful look, and his head tilted.

_He’s adorable._

The thought entered his head without warning, and Erik startled, straightening from where he’d been leaning back against the counter, wine sloshing dangerously in his glass. The truth of that thought frightened him. Charles really was adorable. _What the hell, Lehnsherr? Keep it together._

Attempting to regain his composure, Erik plastered a smirk on his face, leaning back with faked nonchalance as Charles turned towards him.

“Erik, I’m not sure the sauce has enough basil in it,” his forehead furrowed in concentration as he held out a spoonful of sauce towards Erik, one hand cupped underneath to catch any errant drops, “What do you think?”

Erik’s eyes honed in on the fleck of sauce that still clung to Charles’ vibrant red lips, and a sudden surge of confidence swept through him. Setting his glass down and pushing off from the counter, Erik advanced quickly, hands reaching up to cup Charles’ face and lips tilting down to capture his mouth in a searing kiss.

He was distantly aware of Charles’ shuddering gasp as he licked over that drop of sauce, pushing his tongue into Charles’ open mouth. The sound of the spoon clattering to the floor barely registered. Charles’ hands came up to clutch at the lapels of his suit coat, fisting them desperately as he melted into the kiss. Erik could taste the creamy tang of the sauce on Charles’ tongue and he hummed appreciatively, pulling back abruptly.

“Perfection,” Erik breathed, his lips still inches from Charles, “I don’t think it needs anymore spices.”

Charles’ wide cerulean eyes stared at him blankly, his breath still coming in soft pants, “What?”

“The sauce, Charles,” Erik chuckled fondly.

“Oh!” Charles blushed furiously, hands releasing Erik’s jacket, “Right. Of course.” He turned back to the stove, removing the sauce from the burner and grabbing two plates from the cupboard, “So are you hungry?” he asked, chancing a look back at Erik.

Erik smirked, taking the plates from Charles’ weak grasp, “Famished.”

 

~

 

“That was quite possibly the best meal I have ever eaten,” Erik remarked, helping Charles clear their dishes to the sink.

“Well you helped make it,” Charles smiled warmly, running water over the plate Erik had just handed him.

“I believe the word you were looking for there was ‘hindered’,” Erik chuckled, “I really wasn’t much help in the cooking department.”

“It just takes practice,” Charles reassured him, setting the last of the dishes onto the counter to dry.

“You mean you’d be willing to put up with my ineptitude in the kitchen more than once?” Erik joked.

“Of course,” Charles replied, eyes almost painfully sincere.

“Oh,” Erik nodded, averting his eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to hold Charles’ gaze when the man looked at him like that. It made his chest ache.

Scrambling for a change in subject, Erik threw out the first thought that entered his mind, “Beautiful night, isn’t it?”

Charles turned to look out the patio door, “I suppose so. Looks nice enough out.”

“Want to take a walk?” Erik inquired, mentally cringing at himself.

Charles brightened, “Sure! Shall we bring the wine?” he offered Erik his glass, which was currently half-full.

“Let’s,” Erik agreed, taking his glass from Charles as the brunette grabbed his own, before venturing out into the night.

 

~

 

Having already circled half the grounds, the two men now rested comfortably on an old wooden bench, overlooking the placid pond near the back of the property.

“This is nice,” Charles whispered, head pillowed against Erik’s shoulder, wine glass tilting in his slackening grip.

“Mmm,” Erik murmured in assent, lips brushing against Charles’ soft, chocolate brown locks, “I could get used to this.”

“Me too,” Charles’ voice was barely audible, his eyelids drooping.

“Sometimes,” Erik spoke softly, “I imagine you and I seeking out all the young mutants we can find and bringing them back here, to live and train and learn in peace. Where no one will hurt them or taunt them or hate them for being different. For being special. We could start a school, of sorts. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Charles?”

There was no answer, only a soft _clink!_ as Charles’ wine glass dropped to the moss-covered ground.

“Charles?” Erik whispered softly, pulling back to peer at the man’s face.

Charles’ long eyelashes rested serenely on the tops of his cheeks, washed pale in the moonlight. A faint, rosy glow warmed his cheekbones, and his hair had draped delicately over his forehead.

He was asleep.

Erik sighed, setting his glass aside and brushing a hand tenderly through Charles’ silky bangs.

“You’re too pretty for your own good sometimes, you know that?” Erik murmured, drawing his thumb over Charles’ soft cheek. The sleeping man didn’t stir.

With a quiet groan, Erik arched his back, stretching briefly before reaching over to loop his arm under Charles’ legs. He stood slowly, taking care not jostle Charles as he lifted him from the bench, cradling him against his chest. Charles’ head rested lightly against his collarbone, his hair tickling Erik’s neck as the taller man walked slowly back to the house. By the time he reached the door to Charles’ bedroom, the wine and the late hour had taken full effect, and Erik was exhausted. He nudged the door open with his hip, walked swiftly to Charles’ bed, and deposited the man gently on top of the blankets. Charles’ forehead crinkled and he murmured something unintelligible under his breath, still wrapped in a deep sleep. Erik smiled warmly, sitting lightly on the bed and leaning over to remove Charles’ shoes and socks. Having set those aside, he moved to unbutton Charles’ shirt, gently manipulating the man’s arms to slip it off of him. He paused briefly before reaching to undo Charles’ belt and fly, slipping the pants off with relative ease. They’d seen each other naked enough – stripping Charles to his boxers shouldn’t be a problem. As he moved away to set Charles’ clothes in the hamper, a soft whimper came from the bed.

Erik turned quickly, heart clenching as he watched Charles curl in on himself.

“Charles?” he whispered softly, striding back to the side of the bed. He watched as a small shiver wracked Charles’ body. Mentally smacking himself, he pulled back the blankets on one side of the bed, moving Charles onto the soft cotton sheets and pulling the blankets back over his form. Charles snuggled into the warmth unconsciously, letting out a soft sigh of “ _Erik…_ ”

Erik felt his heart stutter. He gazed down at Charles, hands itching to reach out and touch him. To hold him. To feel his body, warm against his own, in the placid blackness of sleep.

 _But how would Charles react_ , Erik wondered, _if we were to wake up intertwined? Would he welcome that? Or is that desire solely my own?_

Charles fidgeted in his sleep, breathing Erik’s name again.

 _I’ll take my chances_ , Erik thought to himself, stripping down to his boxers and climbing into bed next to Charles. The smaller man curled contentedly around Erik’s body, slinging a heavy arm over Erik’s waist.

Moments later, Erik joined Charles in a blessedly dreamless sleep, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first piece ever for this fandom, so hopefully it wasn't too horrible. I'm aware it's shamefully fluffy, but frankly, there's so much angst in this fandom, I feel like fluff of this magnitude is warranted sometimes.
> 
> Comments are adored. <3


End file.
